


Pick Me Up (I'm in Pieces)

by Teddy1008



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholic Tony Stark, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Lack of Communication, M/M, Marriage Proposal, No Smut, Stripper Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony cheats on Peter, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teddy1008/pseuds/Teddy1008
Summary: Peter Parker has been a stripper for quite some time now. Circumstances change in the most unpredictable ways when he meets the one and only Tony Stark, billionaire and CEO of Stark Industries.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 13
Kudos: 181





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [petertonystark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/petertonystark/gifts).



> Hey everyone!! So this one is a little different from what I usually write, but I hope you enjoy it regardless of that fact :) it's angsty and although it is tagged, I want to warn you again just for good measure. This fic involves alcoholism, cheating, and a lack of communication that healthy relationships need. Please keep that in mind as you read.
> 
> If you have any questions or requests for ideas, etc, feel free to come talk to me on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/starkerdreams)!

Peter had been stripping for what had to be the better part of the year. 

It still felt strange knowing that he was able to pay rent now, and he didn’t even work every single day! He worked four times a week; his boss was flexible enough to let him choose how many hours a day he worked, but he supposed that just meant that there were plenty of others waiting to make their own bucks that he wasn’t _that_ needed. He tried not to think about that though.

It was still early enough in the morning that he didn’t need to rush to get out of his apartment flat. He got up and out of bed, stretching and making a pleased noise when he heard his joints crack and pop. 

He had oatmeal for breakfast, not his favourite choice of a meal but it would do. He needed to do some grocery shopping so he added that to his mental list. He was thankful he had done his laundry last night before going to sleep because now he just had to do the dishes before heading out. When he came home from work, he would vacuum. And repeat for the rest of his life, unless a miracle happened. Peter snorted at that thought. Yeah, like he, out of all people, would get a fucking miracle. 

He packed his bag and headed out the door, then realized that he’d forgotten his ID at home, so he had to go back for it. Thankfully, he hadn’t started biking yet. Yeah, he _biked_ to work. Not the most ideal form of transportation, but he didn’t want to get a car just now, just in case something went wrong at work and his flow of income was halted. He had a bus pass too, but he reserved that for when it was raining or snowing badly. 

He fastened the helmet to his head and set off, glancing over his shoulder at the road. As always, the roads were fairly empty; cheers to him for not starting work at seven or eight in the morning like most people.

As he biked, he tried to remember what Sam had texted him yesterday. Sam was a pretty chill boss, he reckoned; sometimes he drove Peter home when it had been a particularly successful day at work. 

Did he have any booked appointments with customers? No, not today, that was for Monday. Which meant that today, he was most likely going to be making a bit less—he charged higher for booked private appointments.

When he got there, he secured his bike at his usual spot. Bucky, his favourite bouncer, greeted him, as always. “Hey, Pete.”

Peter smiled. “Hi.” He nodded back. “Had a good sleep last night?” He knew Bucky struggled with insomnia and PTSD, though for what, Peter wasn’t exactly sure. Bucky wasn’t a very open person.

Bucky shrugged. “Same old.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Sam mentioned that he wants to see you. Something about looking for a pretty twink who can give this guy a show.”

“Oh.” Peter frowned, puzzled. Sam didn’t usually allow last-minute appointments for private sessions. “Okay, I’ll go see him.” 

It didn’t take long to find Sam, and when Peter caught his attention, the man grinned and made a beeline for him. 

“Oof!” Peter was crushed by Sam’s strong arms when he was pulled into a bear hug, making him feel like he was in a cocoon. “Hi, Sam.”

“Peter, Peter, Peter.” Sam was still beaming. He pulled Peter aside into one of their unoccupied private rooms and placed his hands on Peter’s shoulders. Peter tried not to laugh when Sam squeezed them; he was ticklish there. “Remind me what I said when I first hired you?”

“Uh.” Peter blinked. “That if I tried to steal your weed, you’d kick me back out onto the streets?”

Sam wheezed with laughter at that and it took him a while to regain his composure. “No, no, no.” Shaking his head, he ruffled Peter’s hair, tousling the curls back to life after they’d been squashed under his bike helmet. “I said—and I know this for a fact—that one day, a pretty little thing like you would get the big bucks for us. Remember that?”

“Yeah, totally.” _Not really._

Sam smirked and squeezed Peter’s shoulders again. “Well, Petey boy, today’s your day! An old friend of mine messaged me this morning, saying that he might pay us a visit. Have you ever heard of a Mr. Stephen Strange?”

Peter blinked. “Like… like district attorney Mr. Strange?”

Sam clapped his back. “Exactly, kid. Now, look.” The joy on his face was suddenly replaced by seriousness. “He’s not coming to actually get a show. It’s for a case, some mystery he’s trying to solve. He just needs you to give him a dance in front of everyone else. No harm will be done to you; you know the security system around here.” He gestured wildly, waving his hand around. “He promised that _if_ he comes, he’ll be paying you triple your usual amount of an appointment. Are you up for it?”

“Yes,” Peter said before Sam even finished speaking. “Done.”

Sam grinned. “Great. Knew I could count on you, Parker.” He glanced at his watch. “He’s due to come around in about an hour or so. Till then, you do what you usually do out there. Just make sure you’re available by then.”

“Got it.” Peter left the room and headed for the back room. He was lightheaded with excitement, not at the prospect that he was going to see the district attorney—nah, he didn’t care about that—but at the fact that he was getting paid _triple._ He made a promise to himself; when today was done with, he was gonna buy himself the juiciest steak he could find and have the best meal of his life. 

Since he still needed to get properly ready for the day, he used the restroom and got dressed in his outfit. Today’s outfit wasn’t really anything special. He pulled on a pair of flexible black skinny jeans and his favourite black shoes. He decided that since today was his lucky day, he would even wear something special—a black lace choker around his neck. 

He made small talk with the others, who were also getting ready, but didn’t dwell too much on them. He could still make a bit of money to put in his pocket before Mr. Strange arrived. When he headed outside, he was surprised to find more people than usual, lounging around. Peter most definitely was not complaining. Cold, hard cash? Yeah, he was gonna make that happen. 

And he sure enough did. He made sure to secure what he’d earned before he caught Sam snapping his fingers at him as subtly as possible from across the room. When Peter looked at him, he clicked his tongue with a wink and pointed to a man. Following the direction of his finger, Peter saw Mr. Strange sitting there, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, looking around lazily. 

Peter made a beeline for him and didn’t hesitate to circle him, putting on the hungriest expression he’d ever made before in his entire life. And god, was he hungry for his triple payment. 

Strange seemed to recognize him instantly, judging by the way he looked him up and down and said casually, “Go on, then. Give me a dance, and make it good. I want all eyes over here.” 

Peter grinned, leaned forward, and breathed, “Yes, Sir.” And he did the lord’s work, making sure to catch everyone’s attention, just like Strange had commanded. 

It took a few minutes, but Stephen slid a hand in his hair, pulled him closer, and murmured, “Good work. Thanks, kid.” And he shoved a stack of money into Peter’s hands and left through the back door.

Peter was fucking ecstatic. He made sure to safely store away his money before looking around, searching for his next client. He grinned when he saw a man in the corner. Armani suit. Rolex watch. God, even his haircut screamed _filthy rich._ And who was Peter to deny himself such a pleasure? 

He was rather smug when the man didn’t seem disinterested. He pulled off his tinted sunglasses and squinted at Peter appraisingly. Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a long sip, as if waiting for Peter to make the first move. 

Peter could feel the tension growing between them. When the man lowered his glass, he took the chance and said softly, “Could I offer you a dance?” He grinned when the man eyed him up and down shamelessly, clearly drinking in his appearance. 

“Mm, we’ll see.” The man cleared his throat. “Name?”

“Peter.”

“Tony.” 

There was a small pause of silence between them before Tony said, “You’re certainly the prettiest thing here, aren’t you, darling?”

Peter smiled coyly, confidently. “You could assume that,” he said with a little shrug. “Or you could let me show you.” He sidled a bit closer to Tony and smirked at the way Tony tensed a bit. “Stop playing hard to get, _Sir._ We both know you’re here for a reason.”

Tony grunted. “Fine,” he said. Peter grinned triumphantly. “But I want a private room.”

“Done.” Peter grabbed Tony’s hand and dragged him onto his feet. “Bring your drink too.” He fetched a key from Sam, who patted his back, still clearly satisfied from his work with Strange, and gestured for Tony to follow him. “I got us the best room here, you know,” he said casually as they walked. 

“Did you now?” Tony sounded amused. “Going all out, kid, is that it?”

Peter shrugged and smiled, a bit shyly. “Maybe.” It was more so the fact that Tony had caught his eye the moment he saw him, not just because of his wealth, but because of the little back and forth game they’d been playing from the start. He glanced at Tony once more. He wasn’t usually attracted to clients while working, and he never, _ever_ had sex. Still, he had to admit, Tony was _hot._ It could definitely be much, _much_ worse. 

He unlocked the door and it swung open. Peter let Tony walk in first before he locked the door behind them.

Peter and Tony both took a second to look around the room, take in their surroundings. There wasn’t a lot in the room. There was a brown leather couch, a king-sized bed tucked away in the corner, and other materials and items. It had been a while since Peter had even been in a private room; he rarely initiated it nowadays and a lot of the regular clients hadn’t been showing up lately. He knew private rooms were safe; there were cameras and security guards roaming the area. Not that he thought Tony would really hurt him anyways. 

Peter watched as Tony took a seat on the armchair across from the couch silently. When he stood there, Tony looked at him and scoffed, then pointed to the couch. “Sit,” he said. “Seriously, kid, stop stressing. I’m paying you regardless of what you do.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t question it and sat down. When Tony stared at him unblinkingly, he slowly moved into a more comfortable position, tucking his legs under himself. 

Then, Tony gave a short nod, as if now satisfied, and took a sip from his drink. He glanced at his watch, then spoke slowly. “So, kid,” he said. “You know anything about science?

 _What the hell?_ Peter stared at him, then nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Hadn’t Tony wanted him to give him a dance? “I used to study it. In college and stuff.” _Before going into crippling debt._

“Hm.” Tony took out a pack of gum from the inside of his suit and popped one into his mouth. “I’m an engineer,” he said briefly. “I’m working on something. Involves nanotech.”

“Oh.” 

“Mm. Know anything about that?” When Peter hesitated, Tony smirked and told him, “It’s okay if you get stuff wrong. I promise I won’t laugh. Maybe.”

Reluctantly, Peter said, “It’s pretty much the manipulation of matter on several scales, atomic, molecular, and supramolecular. And, uh, it’s being used for diseases and health issue treatments.”

“Right,” Tony interrupted. “But not just medical nanotech. There’s also nanotech for engineering manipulation, imaging, and measuring. You know how that works?”

Peter bit his lip, thinking and trying to remember what he’d learned in the past. “Um, sort of.”

“Well, go on.”

“Nanomaterials have larger surface areas than the same mass of material produced in a bigger form.” Peter ran a hand through his hair. God, he hadn’t talked about this with anyone in so long.  
“And that makes them more chemically reactive which can influence their electrical properties.”

“Right. Not bad, kid.”

Peter grinned, perking up a bit when he was assured that he’d been right. 

“And what about quantum effects?” Tony gazed at him, looking rather impressed. He was clearly having just as much fun as Peter was.

Peter shrugged a bit bashfully. “I don’t know too much about that,” he admitted. “Just that it can affect the optical and magnetic behaviour of different materials. But I never got around to learning about how materials can be produced on the nanoscale in different dimensions.”

“You wanna know? I could tell you a thing or two.”

“Yeah.”

And they went on and on, and Peter lost track of time until Tony’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his suit jacket, raised an eyebrow at whatever he’d just read on the screen, and looked at Peter. “Looks like time’s up, kid. I’ve gotta dash.”

Peter was surprised to find that he felt disappointed. He’d never really cared whether clients left early or late in the past. He supposed he’d been having too much fun with Tony. “I… I didn’t even do anything for you,” he said dumbly. “Shit.” God, he was so stupid. He could’ve earned at least a bit more by actually doing his job instead of sitting on the couch and fucking blabbing on and on about nanotechnology and engineering. He might as well have spilled his life story to Tony, he thought bitterly.

Tony shrugged, looking unbothered by Peter’s distress. He got out his wallet and pulled out a wad of bills, then tossed it to Peter. “Thanks for the talk, kid. You’re real smart, I don’t think you realize that.” 

And with that, he left, leaving Peter alone in the room.

Absolutely bewildered, Peter looked down at the bills in his hands. He’d count them later, he decided, pocketing it. He was still working.

Nothing much happened after Tony left; everything else seemed bland and boring. It was just another regular day now.

__________

So, Tony had given him $500. For doing absolutely nothing, besides blunder on about science. 

All in all, Peter was satisfied with what he’d earned today. When his shift was over and he was heading home, he even bought himself sushi from the nearby grocery store before he realized he’d forgotten about the steak, so he bought that too. It was _forever_ since he’d eaten something else besides McDonald’s. 

With his stomach full, he lay back, relaxing. Now, if only every day felt this good.

__________

Peter was late to work. He wasn’t sure how in the world he’d managed to sleep in, but he had, and now he was biking furiously, legs aching in protest from the toll. It was only until he noticed the bookstore near his house was closed, which meant… fuck. He didn’t have work today. 

He hastily stopped the bike with a screech, earning him a few stares. Peter glared down at his mud-covered jeans, then sighed. Time to return home.

Biking back at a slower speed than before, Peter hummed to himself quietly. It had been a rough start to the day and he could already tell it was going to get worse. He parked his bike at the usual spot, then headed inside, glancing at his phone. 

He tried making pancakes since he’d skipped breakfast before heading out, but they ended up burnt and he threw them out, frustrated. Yeah, no, today was not his day to shine.

So instead, he decided to go out for a jog, wanting to release all of his pent up energy before he ended up punching the wall. He fetched his earphones and was relieved to find that they weren’t broken, especially since he hadn’t used them in a while, and changed into a more comfortable outfit. 

Peter left the house, starting with a slow jog. The streets in New York weren’t the best for jogging, surprise surprise, so he headed to the nearest park. It was a secluded little area, but Peter actually liked that it was hidden away. This way, he didn’t have to dodge crowds of people while running.

As Peter jogged, he let himself think back on yesterday’s events. He was sure Sam was equally as pleased as he was with their final count of the profits and wondered if he could ask him for an extra day off so he could relax and actually catch up to life. He still needed to go grocery shopping. 

For a while, he zoned out, just jogging along the path quietly, enjoying the sounds of his surroundings. It was nice to hear the sounds of nature without traffic muffling it. Dropping his gaze to the ground, he watched his feet hit the ground rhythmically. He wondered if Tony was planning to come back. Maybe not. He seemed like a busy man. But if he did, well, Peter definitely wouldn’t be ignoring him. In fact—

“Oof!” Peter stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. 

“Christ, watch out, kid!”

“I—I’m so sorry!” Peter stammered, blushing furiously. “I wasn’t looking where I was—” Then, he stopped, staring. 

“Peter?”

Speak of the devil.

Peter blinked. “Tony.”

“You’re… you’re jogging.” Tony stared at him, looking equally as caught off guard. 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. “Oh, yeah. I don’t… work today, so. Just, you know?” _Great going, Peter._ He mentally slapped himself. He sounded like an illiterate fool. 

“Right.” 

Peter sucked the inside of his cheek at the awkward silence between them. “What’re you doing here?” Now that he thought about it, it _was_ a bit odd to find Tony here.

It was Tony’s turn to look sheepish now. “Not much. Just out for a little stroll, get my mind off of a few things.”

_Like me?_

Peter nodded. “Cool.” He cringed. God, this was _so fucking weird_. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna… get going.” Tony threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate so. “Maybe I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay.” Peter watched as Tony quickly backtracked and was almost immediately hit with a feeling of… disappointment? Before he could overthink, he called out, “Tony!” His cheeks grew hotter when Tony turned, looking puzzled. _Quick, Peter. Think._ “Um, thanks for… yesterday. The, you know, payment.” That sounded terrible. Peter hated himself.

Tony gave him a small smile. “Of course, kid. It was refreshing to talk to someone smart like you.” 

Peter couldn’t hold back the grin at that, and he shrugged bashfully. “See you later.”

Tony sucked in his bottom lip, clearly thinking, and Peter held his breath. He practically saw the moment Tony made the decision in his mind. The man strode forward, closer to Peter, and said, “You know what? Let’s go out for lunch. Right now.”

Peter’s lips parted in surprise. “Lunch?”

Tony nodded, though he looked a little less sure now. “Yeah, kid. Lunch. Unless you’re—”

“No, no, yeah, let’s go!” Peter nodded. “Um, I just… need to change.” He gestured down to his jogging outfit. 

“Not a problem.” Tony waved him off. “I’ll just call my driver and tell him to pick us up now. Give him your address.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Driver? The fuck? Peter followed Tony out of the trail and back near the main streets and watched as Tony shot off a text. Within a few minutes, a sleek black car pulled up. Tony opened the door with a grin.“Hey, Happy.” Then, he turned and gestured for Peter to enter.

“Thanks.” Peter shuffled in, being careful not to get the car dirty because that would be too embarrassing for him to handle. Tony followed behind him and shut the door gently. 

“Address?”

“Whoa, whoa, let’s do some introductions first.” Tony flashed Peter a teasing grin. “Happy, Peter. Peter, Happy. Okay, great. Just tell him your address, kid, and he’ll get you there.”

Peter relayed his address to Happy, unable to help but feel a bit nervous once they started driving. He highly doubted he was getting kidnapped; he knew Tony wasn’t a mad man, judging by yesterday’s experience. Or at least, he hoped. He relaxed a bit when they were less than a minute away until he had another reason to be anxious. 

Tony was about to see where he lived. Or rather, the state of where he lived. At least it would be just the outside. But still, it was embarrassing, especially because he knew Tony was filthy rich. They pulled up at his apartment, and Peter said, “I’ll be back in a few moments,” before he hastily left the car. 

He practically ran into the apartment, pressing the button of the elevator rapidly, desperately wishing for it to come faster. 

Only when he entered did he realize that he had no idea where they were going to go for lunch. 

“Don’t panic,” he muttered to himself as he panicked. Looking around, he decided to dress in a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey cable-knit sweatshirt. He also grabbed a cheap little necklace that shone goldenly and fastened it around his neck. Then, he brushed his teeth once more just in case before taking a look at himself in the mirror. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as it could be. He ran his hand through his hair a bit to try to tame it, then groaned. “Fuck it.” He headed back down, thankful that he hadn’t invited Tony into his home—although, it probably would’ve been polite to do so. Or maybe it was more polite that he hadn’t, judging by how messy his apartment was.

Tony greeted him easily when he re-entered the car, not looking bothered at all.

Peter bit his lip and sat down next to him, gesturing to himself. “I wasn’t sure where we were going, so…”

“You’re fine, you’re perfect.” Tony waved a hand dismissively, and Peter tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered a bit at those words. “Do you like Italian?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah,” he said eagerly. “Love it.”

“Great.” Tony was clearly pleased. “I know this amazing place. It’s not as well-known as the others, but it’s just as good, if not better. Hopefully, you’ll think the same of it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Peter gazed out the window, watching as they picked up speed, heading further and further away from his home. “So, did everything work out with whatever project you’re working on?”

“Hm?” Tony seemed distracted but immediately pocketed his phone when Peter spoke. “Oh, no.” He clicked his tongue, looking frustrated. “I didn’t get to. Comes with owning a company and all, I guess.”

Peter stared. “Wait, what?”

Tony raised an eyebrow, looking equally as confused. “What?”

“You… you own a company?” Peter’s voice cracked, but it barely registered. Was he seriously about to go on a lunch date with a CEO?

Tony grinned, looking amused. “Kid. You’re joking. Stark Industries?” He pulled out his phone and held it up for emphasis, showing the logo. 

“Oh my god,” Peter said faintly. “You’re Tony _Stark._ ”

Tony grimaced a bit. “Okay, yeah, that’s on me. I didn’t say my last name yesterday, did I?”

Peter shook his head mutely. 

“Well, I’m Tony. Great to meet you.” Tony’s lips twitched upwards into a smile. 

That explained the wealth. Peter exhaled, taking the time to register this information. “This is so weird.” Then, he flinched. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

Tony snorted. “Just a bit.” To Peter’s relief, he seemed amused, not offended.

The car ride to the restaurant was swift with no complications. Peter was delighted but no longer surprised when they were able to get a private room, Tony telling the hostess, “Reservation for Stark.” He was equally as happy when he saw the menu and was relieved that he didn’t have to pull out Google Translate. Seriously, some Italian restaurants had a shit ton of ingredients that he didn’t know.

Tony also ordered a bottle of wine for them, clicking his tongue at Peter and saying, “You’ll like it, trust me.”

And Peter sure enough did. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but he enjoyed the way the wine complimented the pasta he’d decided to get. He also found that Tony was great at small talk. They talked a bit more about science, about his projects, what he had to do as a CEO, and even told Peter tidbits of information about the upcoming unreleased phone. 

Peter laughed at that. “Won’t you get in trouble for telling me this?”

Tony grinned back. “Probably,” he agreed. “But I have a feeling you won’t snitch on me.”

Peter smiled shyly back. “Don’t be too sure, Mr. Stark,” he teased. “I have some people I could tell.” Yeah, no, he really didn’t.

When they finished their meal, Tony ordered dessert for them. Peter moaned as he dug into the tiramisu cake, ignoring Tony’s amused snort. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

Peter nodded, the fork still in his mouth. “Delicious,” he mumbled before diving in for another bite. Tony laughed but did the same thing as Peter.

It wasn’t until Tony called for the bill that Peter started feeling anxious. Right. For a second, he’d forgotten that paying for meals was a _thing._ He pulled out his wallet but stopped when Tony snapped his fingers at him.

“Hey, no. It’s already done; it’s on me.”

Peter gaped. “But—”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Relax, kid. Seriously, it’s on me.” He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging Peter to say otherwise.

Biting his lip, Peter gave in, knowing it was no use. He shoved his wallet back into his pocket and mumbled, “Thanks, Tony. This was… this was great.” It was _perfect._ It had been so long since Peter had gotten to properly enjoy himself this way. 

Tony hummed. “It was,” he agreed easily. He glanced at his watch and frowned. “I have a meeting in half an hour.”

Peter’s heart sank a bit in disappointment but he tried his best to not show it. “That’s okay,” he said with a smile, cringing at the knowledge that it probably didn’t look genuine at all. He wondered if he would see Tony again. He definitely wanted to. “Hey, are you, uh…” He trailed off, suddenly regretting bringing the subject up. 

“Hm?” Tony glanced at him, stopping in whatever he’d been doing on his lap. Maybe texting? “Am I what?”

Peter shrugged. “Never mind.” He could feel his face turning red. _Oh god. Not again._ He’d done enough blushing for five years. 

Tony smirked, as if knowing exactly what was going on in his mind, and slid a napkin across the table. “You’re gonna want this,” he said. “Now, do you want a ride home?”

Peter took the napkin and pocketed it, heart beating. He wanted to open it up and look at it right this second, but he made himself show some self-control. Instead, he bit his lip, then smiled ruefully. “That would be great,” he admitted.

Tony grinned, then held out a hand, pulling Peter to his feet. “Let’s go, then.”

The ride home was certainly less awkward than the ride to the restaurant. This time, they sat in comfortable silence, Tony trailing a hand up and down his kneecap thoughtfully. Peter spent most of the time looking out the window, every once in a while pointing something out to Tony. 

They pulled up once more in front of his apartment and Peter turned to Tony with a smile. “Thanks for everything,” he said genuinely. “It was great.”

Tony clicked his tongue. “I’ll catch you later.”

Peter nodded, then shuffled out the car. He watched as the car drove off and he lifted his hand in one last goodbye. _I’ll catch you later._ What did that even mean? He headed inside and into the elevator. Then, he remembered the napkin that was still kept safely in his pocket. Pulling it out, he opened it, and a smile broke upon his face. A number was scrawled messily onto it, with “T.S. xx” underneath it. 

He couldn’t even wait until the elevator doors opened to pull out his phone. He jammed the numbers into his phone, double-checking it and then triple-checking it for good measure, then sent: _“:)”_ Shit. Was that stupid?

Before he could start beating himself up, his phone buzzed, indicating a response. He grinned when he saw it.

**_I told you you’d want the napkin._ **

He shoved his phone into his pocket for a second to open the door, and when he entered, he collapsed onto his bed, exhaling. God, he was still grinning. He sent back a text:

_You know me so well._

A minute passed, and then five. He frowned. Fuck it. He was a double texter; so what? He shot off another text, this one a bit bolder than anything he’d said before.

_Are you gonna come back to the club?_

**_Are you gonna be there?_ **

Peter grinned.

_Maybe ;)_

**_Then maybe._ **

Peter giggled. He fucking _giggled._ Oh god. He sucked the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, staring up at his ceiling. Yeah, this was great. It was like everything was starting to click back into place again. All because of Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! <3 (they ARE like crack to writers, so... :P)
> 
> Update will be in one week! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright as promised, chapter 2 is up!! thanks to everyone who commented :) I hope you enjoy this one! this chapter is angsty, so keep an eye out for that! <3

“Fuck you.”

Peter grinned as he gave his shitty ass apartment room the middle finger. This wasn’t his home anymore. Wow, that was a seriously weird concept. For as long as he could remember, Peter had been living here and although it had become something like a haven for him, he’d found a newer, better one—Tony.

Peter had been pleasantly surprised the first time Tony visited him at work again a few weeks ago. He hadn’t noticed him at first but when he saw the silhouette sitting in the same place Tony had been sitting the first time, he’d known instantly who it was. He’d grinned and sidled up to him casually. It took less than a minute for them to find their way to a private room. 

On the days where Peter saw Tony while he was working, he knew it would be a good day. When he didn’t, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Except now, he didn’t have to think about that, because he and Tony were _moving in together._ And that was fucking exciting. 

Tony had sent for a moving team to pick up Peter’s things. There wasn’t a lot, especially because Tony decided to buy Peter a bunch of new things, which Peter argued against before giving up when he saw that Tony wasn’t going to budge. 

Peter took one last glance at the barren-looking apartment in front of him, huffed, and left. He entered the car Tony and Happy were waiting for him and set the backpack he’d been carrying down. 

“You ready?” Tony asked with a smile.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

Tony’s house was amazing, better than any house Peter had ever lived in before. It stood tall and proud, with its matte black front doors and large glass windows. Peter stared at it through the window of the car with his mouth wide open in awe, feeling like he was a little kid during Christmas. Then, they got out of the car, Tony placing a hand on the back of his neck, making Peter blush and his gut grow warm at the gesture. 

“Do you like it?” the older man asked with a smile.

“Like it?” Peter scoffed. “I love it.” He stared at it dreamily. “It feels like a fever dream. But like, a good one.”

Tony laughed at that, then began walking, leading Peter to the door. “I have other houses, but I figured you’d like this one better since it’s still near your old apartment. I’m sure you want to stay familiar with the area.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed with a smile. “Thanks, Tony. Seriously.”

“Of course, Pete.” Tony grinned and looked at him, wetting his lips with his tongue. “I can’t wait to spend all my time with you now. I work from home mostly anyways, so it won’t be a problem either.” Tony pulled out a key, unlocking the door. It opened smoothly without a creak and they stepped inside.

“That’s great,” Peter agreed. “I can’t wait to be with you too. Maybe I’ll ask Sam if I can switch my hours around a bit.” He frowned when Tony looked rather surprised at what he’d said.

“You don’t have to work anymore, babe,” Tony told him. He closed the door behind him after waving to Happy, who drove off. “You’re with me now; money’s not a problem.”

Peter stared at him. What? His heart was racing, along with his mind. This wasn’t what he’d expected to discuss the first time they were together— _officially_ together. And what if Tony got tired of him eventually? What would he do? Where would he go? He tried to think of the nicest way to convey all of this to Tony and eventually softly said, “I don’t want to be a charity case, Tony.”

“You’re not.” Tony frowned and placed both his hands on Peter’s shoulders, gripping gently as a gesture of comfort. “You’re my _boyfriend,_ Peter. Not my charity case. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to go back there.”

Peter bit his lip. “I—” He paused, unsure of what to say or how to communicate what he was feeling. He knew his line of work wasn’t the job that most people would want to have, but he liked the feeling of familiarity and the routine he’d had going on. 

“Pete?”

“Okay, can we— can we just discuss this later?” Peter asked, swallowing over the lump in his throat. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I just want to unpack and have some nice quiet time with you. And maybe get takeout for dinner.”

Tony gave in, nodding, though he still seemed a bit lost in his thoughts. “Alright,” he agreed quietly. “Anything for you, lovely.” He kissed Peter’s cheek, making him blush. This was nice. This was what he wanted. He felt safe and loved and _happy._ And he never wanted it to change.

They decided to get Chinese for dinner. “I know this amazing place,” Tony told him. “I’ll get the best on the menu and you can go ahead and take any room upstairs and unpack.”

Peter grinned. “Thanks, Tony.” He blew the man a kiss, making him laugh, and made his way upstairs. He decided to take the room with the pastel blue walls, right across from what he assumed was Tony’s, as it was the only non-guest room. He knew Tony had told him he’d get him a new bed, but he found that he liked the one that was already in this room. It reminded him of the one he’d left behind, but… a better version of it. 

It still felt a bit odd; it wasn’t what he was used to, but he was sure that with a few additions, it would start feeling like home in no time. He hoped. He jumped when he heard a knock at the door and turned around.

Tony was leaning against the door frame with a smile. “I ordered,” he said. “They said they’ll deliver to us in about twenty minutes.”

Peter grinned, wincing when his stomach growled. “Thanks, Tony,” he said. 

“Wanna head downstairs? I can give you a tour of the house.”

“Oh, god, please,” Peter agreed easily. “I’m gonna get lost here!”

Tony laughed at that and took his hand, making Peter feel all warm and fuzzy. He could barely pay attention to the house because he was staring so much at Tony—God, even his side profile was perfect. 

When their meal was delivered, Tony brought it inside after giving the delivery guy a big tip. It seemed like they knew each other because Tony clapped the man’s back and said, “Thanks, Clint,” before shutting the door. 

Peter was seated on the couch and he got up to help Tony set the food out, but Tony waved him away. “Sit,” he told him firmly. “I’m treating my boyfriend.”

Peter blushed and obeyed, sitting back down. His mouth watered when he saw the food and his stomach growled eagerly, making Tony laugh. Dinner was nice; they hand-fed each other and teased each other and joked around. Peter hadn’t laughed this hard in so long.

If only it could always stay this way.

__________

The entire time Peter was getting ready for work, Tony had a frown on his face. He quietly watched as Peter changed outfits, packing his bag and grabbing his bicycle helmet—he knew he technically didn’t need to bike anymore, but he enjoyed it. Besides, it kept him in shape. 

“Pete, you don’t have to go for work,” Tony eventually said, looking a little tense. “Seriously.”

Peter sighed. The topic hadn’t come up again after that first time, but it seemed like it was about to now. “I know, Tony,” he said as gently as possible. “But I _want_ to. I like having a job.”

The frustration on Tony’s face grew. “Then get a different job,” he said, a bit too passive-aggressively for Peter’s liking. “That bakery down the street is hiring.”

“And it won’t pay as well,” Peter reminded.

“And you don’t _need_ money!”

Peter sucked his cheek. “Listen, Tony. I’m gonna be late for work, okay? I’m sorry, but I can’t cancel right now. Let’s talk about it later.” _Or never._ He left, giving a small wave to Tony, and oh god, it felt awkward. But Peter really couldn’t afford to be late and quite frankly, he wasn’t in the mood to get into an argument. He got on his bike and started on his way.

He and Tony hadn’t gotten into an actual argument yet, just little squabbles here and there, which Peter figured was normal. Besides, there were a few things they had yet to figure out and his job was one of them. He sighed. It was going to be a long day.

And god, it _was._

Peter was relieved when he was able to leave, biking back home. The wind felt nice against his face and he watched the sunset as he made his way home. He decided to stop by his favourite cupcake shop to get for Tony. Maybe it would help the man feel better. He got one vanilla and one chocolate for good measure.

But when he got home, he found that it was empty. Peter frowned and set the cupcakes on the table. Then, he spotted a little note stuck on the fridge and grabbed it.

> _I’m going out for a bit. Need fresh air. Feel free to order in for dinner._

> _\- Tony_

And that was it. 

The note stared Peter in the face with its cold, harsh words, laughing at him and mocking him. Was Tony really that upset with him for going to _work?_ Peter bit his lip, trying to figure out how he was feeling. Maybe Tony was just having a rough day. Maybe he missed Peter. Maybe he really did just want fresh air. _Don’t overthink it,_ he told himself. They’d figure it out. They always would.

Though he still felt a bit anxious, Peter ordered himself a box of pepperoni pizza. Flicking on the TV to fill up the deafening silence, he waited for the pizza to arrive. It came twenty minutes later and Tony was still nowhere to be seen. How long had he been gone?

Eventually, the clock’s arms reached 10 PM and Peter was still alone in the house. By then, he’d given up and headed upstairs, getting ready for bed. It was a little weird getting into his bed; by now, he and Tony slept in the same bed, cuddling. But he didn’t want to sleep in their bed alone; that would just make him feel even more upset and lonely. How was it even possible to feel more lonely when you lived with someone? Peter hadn’t known that was a thing until now.

It was probably around 11 o’clock when the door swung open and someone—Tony, obviously—shuffled in. Peter sniffled and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to submit to his urges and run downstairs to fall into his arms.

The footsteps were louder now; Tony was coming up the stairs. They paused for a moment. He was probably looking into their bedroom. Was he even upset or surprised to find it empty? Peter wondered.

Then, they came closer to Peter’s room and stopped again. There was a knock on the door, and a soft, “Pete?”

Peter swallowed, but couldn’t make himself say a word. It was like his throat closed up. Hell, it probably actually had; he had way too many emotions going around to be able to even rationally speak. If he opened his mouth right now, all that would come out would be garbled noises.

Peter could feel Tony hesitate, clearly thinking—should he or should he not say anything else? Then, the footsteps shuffled backwards and grew fainter, drawing further away from him and taking Tony away.

Peter couldn’t hold back the tears now. Did Tony think he was asleep or did he just not care enough to try? Did Tony even want to keep living with him, or was he too mad that he still wanted to work as a stripper?

He fell asleep with those thoughts circulating his mind. It was a lonely night that he spent alone in his bed.

__________

The next morning was awkward as hell. 

Peter found that Tony had made breakfast—an apology, maybe?—and sat down at the table wordlessly, watching Tony scrape the food onto two plates. Then, he placed one down in front of Peter and then another down in front of his spot. Picking up his fork, he began to eat. 

Peter copied him quietly, unsure of what to say. There were too many thoughts in his head and he felt a bit numb; he could barely formulate words at the moment. It was the first fight—if it could even be called that—they’d ever had throughout the time they’d been dating. Maybe that was why he was so overwhelmed. 

Tony was the first to open his mouth, clearly unable to take the silence anymore. “Good sleep?”

Peter stared at him, then nodded. He shoved another mouthful of scrambled eggs into his mouth. “Yeah.”

“That’s good.” Tony cut his bacon with a knife, then exhaled. “Listen, Pete—”

“Why were you gone for so long?” Peter suddenly asked, unable to take it anymore. 

It was Tony’s turn to stare at him now. “What?”

 _Don’t play dumb,_ Peter wanted to say. He didn’t get why Tony couldn’t just _talk_ to him. Was it bad that he felt suspicious? Was it wrong that he felt that way? Did he even have the right to think that Tony had… had done something bad while he was away? There was a bitter taste at the back of his mouth and suddenly, he didn’t want to know. “No, nevermind.” He stood up, feeling sick. “I’m gonna go. To the bathroom.” He turned on his heel and was halfway across the room when Tony spoke.

“I was out drinking.”

Peter stopped.

“I was… I wasn’t feeling the best. So I went for a drink, at that place down the street.” The chair scraped on the floor, indicating that Tony had gotten up. Peter flinched when he felt hands on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

Peter sighed, turning around, all the fight and the anger and the upset gone from his body now. “No, it’s fine. I get it.” He’d had his fair bit of drinking during his low moments in life, so he really couldn’t say anything about it. “Just… why didn’t you tell me?”

Tony’s jaw clenched. “Because I’m stupid, Pete,” he eventually said. “I’m bad at thinking through my emotions. I know I’m a CEO and all, so it should be surprising that I _suck_ at thinking through my problems, but… drinking when I get like this? It… helps.” He sounded a bit strained, as if it was hurting him to open up. 

Maybe it was an insecurity, or a sensitive topic for him. Peter didn’t know, but he didn’t pry any further. Instead, he said, “It’s okay. I understand. Just, next time, maybe you could tell me?” 

Tony nodded. “Of course. I promise.”

Peter smiled. “Okay.” He hesitated, then said, “I thought it was something bad.”

There was a flash of hurt in Tony’s eyes but it disappeared quickly. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know.” Peter huffed softly. “I trust you.” He leaned up, and Tony accepted it, kissing him. 

“I trust you too,” he breathed.

___________

It was winter time now, which meant Peter couldn’t bike anymore. Usually, he would’ve taken the bus, but Happy drove him to work. Most of the time, the car rides were quiet. Peter found the silence between them way too awkward and often asked Happy to roll up the partition in the car. 

When Peter returned from work, he hung up the coat Tony had bought him, then took off his shoes. Heading to the living room, he smiled when he saw Tony sitting there, but it quickly faded when he saw the nearly empty bottle of alcohol next to him. 

Concerned, he went over. Tony looked up at him, eyes a bit red-rimmed, and Peter cupped his face in his hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

Tony shook his head. “Nothing,” he croaked.

Peter sat down next to him, letting Tony lean his head on his shoulder, and petted his hair gently, as soothingly as he could. “You know you can talk to me,” he reminded. “I _am_ your boyfriend after all.” To his dismay, Tony seemed even more distressed at that, choking back a quiet sob. 

“I don’t— I don’t deserve you.”

Peter frowned. “Don’t say that,” he said firmly. “Stop it. It’s just the alcohol taking over your thoughts. You know you drink when you’re feeling that kind of way.” He hated that Tony always drank whenever he felt any sort of emotion and he wished there was a way to get him to _stop,_ but he knew it was one of the man’s only coping mechanisms—if it could even be called that.

Tony just exhaled shakily, clearly holding back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh.”

“Do you still love me?”

Peter huffed and nudged Tony’s head back up. Looking the man in the eyes, he said firmly, “Yes. Always. And it’s not just because you give me a roof over my head.” 

Tony laughed a bit at that. That was good, Peter thought. Laughter was good. But Tony was quiet once more, and Peter began to freak out a little. Most of the time, Tony just slept off the alcohol, but it seemed that this time, he was feeling a little more pent up. Peter couldn’t help but wonder what had gotten him so upset, but he knew better than to ask right now. He didn’t want to trigger his thoughts again. 

Carefully, Peter got up and took the bottle of alcohol with the half-empty glass next to it. Tony made a noise of complaint at that but Peter shushed him once more. “You drank a lot already,” he reminded, and Tony gave in. He placed the bottle in the cabinet and put the glass in the sink. Heading back to Tony, he asked, “You wanna go upstairs and cuddle? I’m exhausted from work.”

Tony stared at him for a few moments, then nodded. “Okay.”

Peter pulled him up and held his hand the entire time they went upstairs. It was still too early to go to sleep, but they could have some nice time together in bed before getting takeout for dinner. Tony was in no shape to cook and Peter sucked at cooking, so they didn’t really have a choice. 

Tony didn’t seem to mind when Peter suggested getting Korean, just nodding and sinking into bed after taking off his shirt. Peter went on his phone, petting Tony’s hair again, knowing how much the man enjoyed it, and when he heard a soft snore, he smirked. Fast asleep like a baby.

Peter had to wake him up a few hours later when his stomach began to growl, nudging him and whispering, “Dinner time.” Tony groaned a bit in complaint but obeyed, getting up slowly and blearily blinking at him. 

Peter ended up hand-feeding Tony that night, but he didn’t mind. It just felt like he was returning the favour anyways since Tony often enjoyed doing it for Peter. 

As they ate, Peter glanced at Tony, still feeling a bit concerned for him. He knew that Tony had been drinking a lot recently and maybe it was time to talk to him about it. He knew Tony wasn’t a full-blown alcoholic but all of this drinking? Yeah, that couldn’t be good for him. Besides, it wasn’t the best coping mechanism anyways and that was coming from Peter, which said a lot.

So, mustering up the courage, he asked Tony, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright lately? You know you can always talk to me, right?” 

Tony stared at him and Peter was confused at the sadness etched on his face. But all Tony said was, “Thanks, Pete.”

Peter couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated. He and Tony had always talked about how important communication was in a relationship and yet, here was Tony, unable to even talk to him about what was making him so upset. Was it Peter that was making him feel this way? Maybe that was why Tony felt like he couldn’t talk about it. Whatever it was, Peter would have to leave it for later. It was clear that Tony wasn’t in the right state of mind to hold a heartfelt conversation right now.

It became a regular occurrence. Peter often returned from work to find Tony sitting on his couch with a bottle of alcohol next to him or in his hand. Peter wondered if it was because he was still working. He and Tony had decided to agree to disagree on that specific topic, but Tony had also promised him that he wouldn’t let that harbour any negative feelings towards Peter.

Eventually, it was almost like Peter didn’t even want to try to talk to Tony about it anymore. And god, he felt like a shitty person for feeling that way. He started coming home from work later and later, finding little excuses to stay behind, whether it be helping Sam clean up, stopping by his favourite bakery, or even just going for a little walk in the park. 

Then, one day, when Peter came home from work, he was surprised to hear Tony’s voice ringing out in the silence, and he wondered who he was talking to. Maybe he had guests over? as Peter walked further into the house, he realized that Tony was on the phone. Huh. That was weird. Tony rarely called anyone, not at this time anyway. Maybe it was an emergency for work?

Entering the kitchen, Peter stopped to get himself a glass of water. It was clear that Tony didn’t know that he was home yet, judging by the way he was still on the phone. Peter was about to speak to let Tony know of his presence, but he stopped when he heard what Tony said next.

“No, we can’t anymore,” Tony said. “Not like this. No, hey, c’mon, you _know_ I love you, but… fuck, you know what I mean.”

Peter felt like his heart had stopped. Who was Tony even saying this to? And suddenly, it was like everything was starting to make sense. The drinking, the sadness on Tony’s face every time he saw Peter, the guilt and regret in his eyes. Peter felt sick. He had never expected Tony to be a type of man to _cheat_ on his significant other but now here they were, with Peter listening to Tony talk to someone else the way he should be talking to Peter. Judging by the faint rumble on the other side of the phone, Peter could tell that it was a man. 

Peter had no idea what to do. Should he jump out right now, confront Tony, yell at him, cry, scream, show everything that he felt? Before he could even make a choice, Tony was saying, “Yeah, yeah, gotta go. Okay. Bye.” He made kissy noises, huffing with laughter, and then the phone call ended. 

Peter's feet felt as though they were plastered to the kitchen floor, stuck there for the next five decades. He heard Tony get up, set down a bottle of alcohol on the table in front of him, and his footsteps drew closer to Peter. 

When Tony saw Peter, he froze. He stared at Peter.

Peter’s mouth was dry. “Hi. Busy day?” He couldn’t help the way his voice sounded cold, unforgiving, because that was exactly how we felt right now. He had never felt so betrayed in his entire life.

“Peter—”

“No, don’t worry about it. You can go back to talking to whoever that was. I’m sure you don’t want me bothering you when you’re so busy, right?” Peter had no idea how he wasn’t crying yet.

“I— that wasn’t—” 

“Don’t lie,” Peter snapped. He had enough of the lies. His hands were shaking so he put them behind his back to hide them because he didn’t want Tony to know how much this was affecting him. Not when he was hurting him like this. He didn’t deserve that. “We both know exactly what that was.” 

“I was trying to _end_ it just now, I—”

“That doesn’t make it better!” Peter spluttered.

Tony began to look a little more angry than upset. Whether he was angry at himself or with Peter, Peter had no idea. “You don’t understand.”

Peter scoffed incredulously. “No, I think I do.”

“You don’t!” Tony shouted, pounding a fist on the kitchen counter. It made Peter flinch, but Tony either didn’t care or didn’t notice. He jabbed a finger into Peter’s chest, almost too aggressively, and growled, “You don’t know half the things that go on in my head.”

“Yeah? Then why don’t you tell me, huh? Or is that a secret too?” 

Tony sneered and stumbled a bit. God, he was piss drunk too. Peter had never felt so disgusted before. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do when you’re doing the exact same thing behind my back.“

Peter stared at him, feeling numb. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Tony laughed humourlessly. “What, you think I don’t know what you do at work? God, you’re probably there sucking everyone’s dick behind my back and you like it too much to ever quit your job. So don’t tell me what to do when you’re out there doing exactly that.”

Peter saw red. Breathing heavily, he glowered at Tony, his anger now triggered just as much as the older man’s, before he spat, “Fuck you.”

Everything happened in less than a second, but to Peter, it felt like he was watching in slow motion. He saw the way Tony raised his hand drunkenly, ready to lash out. Peter flinched back, scrambling backwards and hitting the wall as he did so. His heart was thumping loudly, practically leaping into his throat when the realization hit him that Tony had been about to slap him in his drunken haze, motivated by the anger and guilt coursing through his body. 

Peter pressed back against the wall, terrified. 

Tony stumbled back when he realized what he had almost done. There was a look in his eyes that Peter had never seen before. “Fuck, Pete,” he rasped, trembling all over. “Fuck.” 

“I’m leaving,” Peter said, blood roaring in his ears. He inched towards the door, watching Tony the entire time in fear that he would hit him for real this time.

But Tony didn’t say a word, nor did he move. He just stared as Peter eventually reached the door. 

When Peter felt his hand touch the doorknob, he twisted to open it, letting it swing forwards. When Tony still didn’t budge, Peter stepped carefully over the threshold, then closed the door in front of his face. 

He left. 

__________

A month passed, then two. 

Peter stayed at many different houses. Eventually, he began sleeping over at work; it became easier and Sam didn’t mind at all. It was lonely, but Peter managed. He didn’t hear from Tony throughout all that time, and he couldn’t tell if that made him relieved or sad. 

Until one day, when his shift was over, he discovered that he’d gotten a call from the one and only Tony Stark. For a few moments, he stared at his phone, unsure of what to do. Was Tony calling to apologize? Or was it a drunken phone dial instead? _Fuck it._

He really didn’t have anything to lose. So, he called back, praying to God that he wouldn’t regret it. The phone rang for a few moments and Peter was almost convinced that Tony wouldn’t pick up when the ringing stopped. 

There was a small little pause, as if neither of them knew what to say, before eventually, Tony said, “Peter?”

Peter inhaled sharply. “Hi,” he said simply. 

“Fuck.” Tony sounded nervous. “Listen, um. I just… I want to talk. I know it’s been like, fuck, two months or something. But can we… not do this over the phone?”

“You’re the one who called me in the first place,” Peter said blandly. 

Tony let out a little laugh, but it was humourless. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I suppose you’re right.”

More silence.

Then, Peter spoke. “What time and where?” 

“Right now? At the park. You know which park.”

Peter did know. “I’ll be there,” he said simply.

When the phone call ended, Peter exhaled shakily. This certainly hadn't been how he’d expected his day to go, but now, here he was. So, he might as well make the most of it.

He left the building, grabbed his bike, and headed for the park. Before things went downhill, they had always called it _their_ park. His heart ached a bit at the memories.

When he got there, he wasn’t surprised to see Tony already standing there, though he was pacing back and forth as if he was anxious.

Tony jumped nervously when he saw Peter standing there. “Hey,” he said, swallowing nervously. “Thanks for coming.”

Peter just shrugged.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. Peter knew that it was a habit that Tony had when he was feeling nervous. 

“Listen, Pete,” he began nervously. “I just—I just want to work things out with you. I _miss_ you.” 

Peter didn’t know how to feel about that, but he didn’t say anything yet. 

Tony continued speaking. “I just— I don’t know what we are anymore. And I know that’s my fault. But I love to have you be my boyfriend again, instead of this weird thing that’s going on. I mean, it’s been forever. And I know realistically, we’re probably not together anymore. But I just— I’d like to know what we are right now to each other.”

Peter stared at him. Eventually, all he said was, “I don’t know.” And that was the truth. The two months they’d spent apart from each other had been weird. They hadn’t broken up officially; Peter knew technically they _had_ when he left the house, but Tony was right. It did still feel as though there were blurry boundaries between them. And they had to figure it out.

Tony nodded at his response. “Okay,” he said. “That’s— that’s valid.” Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he asked, almost timidly, “Do you still want to be together?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can I… can I try to win you back over again?”

“I guess so.” Peter honestly didn’t know.

“I’m sorry.” Tony sounded sincere, voice raw with emotion. Peter never heard him like this before. “I really am, Pete.”

“Thank you,” Peter said softly. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that. Even though it didn’t make everything better immediately, it was the beginning of it all. The healing process.

“I’ve been going to therapy now.” Tony was staring at the ground now. Throughout the time they spent together, Peter had discovered that Tony wasn’t a very open person. He rarely opened up about his feelings or talked about what he was going through. So the fact that he was telling Peter what he’s been up to? That said a lot. “And I promise I’m not lying about this. Hell, I’ll even give you the name of my therapist and you can google him.”

Peter smiled a bit at that. “That’s okay,” he said. “I believe you.” Why did it feel like his throat was closing up? Fuck. 

“Um, I’ve also been going to rehab,” Tony said. “You… you were right. This drinking habit of mine isn’t a healthy coping mechanism and I can't keep doing it. Not when it ends up hurting people I love. Like you. So this is what it’s gone to. I’m trying my best to heal and become a better person, Peter, I really am. I promise. And I know I fucked up big time, but now I want to make it up to you. That thing I almost did to you? That won’t ever happen again. I swear on my father’s life. Well, he’s already passed, but you know what I mean.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. 

Peter couldn’t suppress his growing smile. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Tony. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.” 

Tony smiled back shyly, and that was when Peter knew everything would be okay again. 

__________

Peter was relieved and happy that Tony was following through with his promises. Throughout the two weeks that they’d been living together again, Tony was nothing but respectful and _sober._ Whenever he went to rehab or therapy, Tony asked Peter to come in the car with him if he wasn’t busy so that he could watch him enter the building. Peter assured him multiple times that he didn’t need to prove himself, that Peter was beginning to trust him again, but Tony insisted.

They were eating dinner together, just like the good old days, when it suddenly hit Peter. “Hey,” he said thoughtfully after swallowing his food. “Who were you even talking to you anyways on the phone when I discovered… you know.”

Tony hesitated, then sighed. “My ex,” he admitted. “I’m sure you know him. His name is Stephen Strange.”

Peter stared, then laughed. “Son of a bitch.” 

Tony, though he looked slightly confused, also just laughed along.

___________

Peter had quit work now. It tugged at his heart a little bit, knowing that this was what had kept him afloat, but he also knew it wasn’t necessary anymore. He and Tony had actually talked it out this time, and Peter hadn’t realized that Tony had felt like Peter had been cheating on him every day by going to work. It made sense, he supposed. He was willing to give up his job for Tony, so that was what he did. Ironically enough, he got hired for a job at the bakery, just as Tony had suggested before things had gone to hell. 

The bakery wasn’t as exciting as his previous work but Peter found that he enjoyed it much more. Maybe Tony had been on to something. Peter entered the house, keys jingling lightly as he did, tired out from today’s shift. He frowned when Tony was nowhere to be seen; usually, the man greeted him immediately at the door, so that was strange.

He headed to the kitchen and was shocked to see the table set up impressively with Tony standing proudly behind it. “Hey, love,” he greeted.

Peter laughed, surprised. “What’s this?”

Tony grinned. “Only the best for my future husband.”

Peter smiled at that, blushing, then blinked. “Wait, what?”

Tony got on one knee and Peter almost shit his pants. Holy fuck. 

Tony blushed. “Peter, my love, my sweetheart, I love you so much. You’re the one and only person who managed to save me from myself, even if it took some trial and error. You mean so much to me, it actually scares me a little bit. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” The man grinned when he saw Peter tearing up. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Peter was choking out before Tony could even finish the question. “Fuck. Yes.” He watched as the ring was slipped onto his finger and admired it through his blurry vision. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Tony smiled, looking a bit teary-eyed himself, and drew Peter closer to himself. “It’s diamond,” he whispered back, making Peter laugh wetly. “Only the best for my love.”

Peter couldn’t wait for the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated! <3 (they ARE like crack to writers, so... :P)
> 
> Update will be in one week! :)


	3. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter! :)

The fact that it was a cold, cloudy day didn’t make things better. 

The moment Tony woke up, his head was pounding. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t give him war flashbacks to…  _ that _ stage of his life. When he woke up with his head pounding from a hangover far too often, feeling so sick that he was miserable every waking second. 

Peter had left for work already. As always, he’d left a little note for Tony on the nightstand, something sweet for Tony to wake up to. This time, it was song lyrics.

> _ I feel wonderful because I see _
> 
> _ The love light in your eyes. _
> 
> _ And the wonder of it all, _
> 
> _ Is that you don’t realize how much I love you. _
> 
> _ \- Pete :) _

Tony smiled, feeling close to tears, and gently placed it back on the nightstand. Peter didn’t know, but he put all of his little notes in his wallet so that he could carry it around wherever he went. What he would do when his wallet was full, he didn’t know yet. Maybe he would carry around five wallets. He laughed at how ridiculous that thought was. 

The short moment of good mood didn’t last very long. Tony already knew it was going to be a long, long day, especially because of the way his mouth watered, craving…  _ that _ . “Don’t fucking do it,” he muttered to himself. He wasn’t going to drink, not now.

It got harder and harder throughout the day until Tony practically couldn’t take it anymore. All he could think about was how disappointed Peter would be if he drank and that was honestly the only thing preventing him from going out to buy himself a bottle right this second.

He tried occupying himself with work but he breezed through it. He had already completed all the difficult parts of his next project, so there wasn’t much that could distract his brain.

He was surprised when the front door opened. Glancing at the clock, Tony frowned. It was too early for Peter to be home yet, but the voice calling his name stated otherwise.

He stumbled to the front door to see Peter standing there with a box of cupcakes in his hands and a big grin on his face, but it dropped when he saw Tony’s state. That made Tony feel even shittier because it meant he had been the one to make that beautiful smile disappear. 

“Tony, what’s wrong?” Peter sounded concerned, drawing him into a hug, which was exactly what Tony needed.

“Fuck, Pete,” he breathed shakily. He was so relieved that Peter was here.

Peter seemed to realize what was going on because he stroked Tony’s hair soothingly. Tony loved it when he did that. “It’s okay,” Peter soothed. “You’re okay. I’m here, and you did so well not giving in. It’s why I married you, right? Because you’re the best person I could ever live my entire life with. And…”

Tony listened as Peter talked, his soft words turning into a lullaby. He blinked when he realized they were on the couch. Somehow, they had migrated there. He made a mental note to confront Peter about whether or not he could teleport later on when Tony wasn’t acting like a complete idiot. 

Peter switched on the TV and directed Tony with his hands, guiding him to lie down across the couch with his head in Peter’s lap. “You’re a mess,” Peter teased with a breathy laugh. 

“Hey!” Tony protested.

“Shhh!” Peter hushed before he could argue any further. “Shut up and let me feed you the cupcakes I bought for us.”

Tony opened his mouth wordlessly, making Peter giggle. 

This was nice. It was better than anything Tony could ask for. He looked up at Peter, gazing into his eyes, never wanting to look away. God, he was beautiful, Tony thought. He was like an angel.  _ His _ angel. “I love you,” he breathed.

Peter smiled. “What a surprise,” he said teasingly. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading !! <3


End file.
